


The Ground

by ThorinBilbo



Category: Supernatural, The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Azgeda, Boudalan Kru, Delfikru, F/F, F/M, Ingranrona Kru, Louwoda Kliron, M/M, Multi, Ouskejon, Podakru, Sankru, Trikru, Trishana Kru, Yujleda, floukru
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25907851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThorinBilbo/pseuds/ThorinBilbo
Summary: "You call yourselves...Skaikru?" Dean asked, his voice slightly put off. Clarke visibly stiffened, shooting him a glare at his tone. "And you need our help because you pissed off twelve clans of the supernatural?" Bellamy cleared his throat, "We kind of had...an understanding with the twelve clans, but once that understanding was...called off...they thought this was the perfect solution." Sam ran a hand down his face, before saying, "The perfect solution being coming out of hiding and killing off innocent people?" Clarke nods slowly. Raven huffed, suddenly getting up from the mahogany chair, crossing her arms proudly as she said, "We're not proud of it, but unless you want all these creatures running as a pack out in public, you'll help us put a stop to this." | Sam/Raven | Dean/Octavia
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Castiel/Echo, Clarke Griffin/Charlie Bradbury, Dean Winchester/Octavia Blake, Jasper Jordan/Nathan Miller, Monty Green/Harper McIntyre, Octavia Blake/Lincoln, Sam Winchester/Raven Reyes
Kudos: 5





	1. The Plan

**Author's Note:**

> " Ｆｏｒ ｌａｃｋ ｏｆ ａ ｂｅｔｔｅｒ ｗｏｒｄ， ｔｈｅｙ＇ｒｅ ｏｕｔ ｔｏ ｋｉｌｌ ｕｓ．"

The room was eerily silent. The computer chairs everyone sat in were, for once, not being swung around childishly. In fact, most of those who sat on the table had their heads in their hands while the others stared hopelessly toward the front at the projector screen displaying two mugshots. Clarke and Bellamy, the unofficial official leaders of this small group, both looked equally exhausted and guilty. Bellamy had his hands on his hips, ready to call this meeting to attention, whereas Clarke was staring up at the projector screen with such a lack of hope. 

"I think we should get started," Bellamy said at last. "There's no point in putting this off. Uh...Raven...you said you had a plan? Probably why these two...guys are up on the screen?"

Raven always sat at the front-center of the table, as always her hair up in its high ponytail. Her leg brace, which she had fashioned herself, was still strapped to her leg. Raven didn't believe in doctors; she only trusted Clarke. Maybe if she had gone to the hospital the day of the accident, she'd be able to walk properly today, but she was still kicking. And Bellamy wouldn't put it past Raven when it concerned her strength. She was the best of them all. 

"Sam...and Dean Winchester," she said, getting to her feet. Clarke and Bellamy took that as the cue to sit down and watch. Raven only thanked them with a nod as she continued, "I think we all know...who these guys are." 

"The guys that started the apocalypse?" John said dryly. 

"And ended it...technically," Monty said, twirling his fingers together tentatively. "Everyone knows who they are."

"Yes. They've started and stopped the apocalypse, managed to eradicate the darkness that nearly killed the earth, stopped the leviathan outbreak, and they even managed to help with the angel problem when they chose to rain from the sky," Raven said, dropping newspaper after newspaper onto the table, all with insane headlines. The people had no idea what truly went on, but they still chose to report when the strange occurrences came to a close. "That brings me to my idea on how to help with our...current situation. We track down this Sam and Dean Winchester, we tell them our problem, and we get them to help us. If and when that happens, we all go home happy knowing we didn't let the world be overtaken in monsters because of one stupid mistake. I'll accept praise in applause." 

Instead of the standing ovation she was looking for, she was suddenly met with several confused, rapidly blinking faces. Raven's shoulders slightly slumped. 

"Wait, wait, wait a second," John began. Eyes instantly rolled, and it was plain Raven just elicited a tired sigh. "You expect us to locate two of the most notorious hunters earth has to offer and ask for their help? So I guess we're starting off with really bad ideas?" 

"Shut up, Murphy," Jasper mumbled with a roll of his eyes.

"So I'm the only one with enough balls to say it, then," John scoffed. "Raven, these are the same guys that took Lucifer out of his cage. If anything, they'll just make this situation ten times worse. It'll just speed up the process of the world's deterioration. You can't honestly think that this is the answer we've been searching for these past few weeks."

"You got a better idea, Murphy?" Raven asked, her eyes narrowed. "Because the last time John Murphy had a plan, it definitely went one hundred percent perfect." She gestured to her leg. John immediately silenced himself, though he still didn't look quite happy with their predicament. It was clear he had a lot more to say, but the guilt kept him quiet. It was childish of Raven to bring it up again, but she knew it was the only way to keep Murphy shut up. "Now...let's get back to business. I understand the Winchesters' reputation isn't exactly squeaky clean, but I'm not gonna ignore the fact that they've done far more good than bad. They're like us. They're hunters. Not to mention they've fought things like this before. Things worse than this and have come out mostly unscathed."

"Except...the situations they often deal with are because of their own mistakes," Clarke said awkwardly. "How do we even know they'll help us? They could just as well slam the door in our face."

"They won't have a choice. Like it or not, this affects them, too. The twelve clans aren't just pissed at us, they're pissed at humans in general. Any day now they'll go public...they won't just hit it where it hurts, they'll bring carnage to every state, every country....everywhere. If we want to stop it, we need bigger bullies. Sam and Dean fit the ticket rather well. I've been doing my research. They've ganked any kind of monster alive. They've come back from the dead...more than once. And their casualty to survival ratio is actually...pretty bleak. That's not really something I should've brought up. But! But...legend has it they run around with an angel."

"Of course they do," Bellamy sighed irritably. He leaned forward in his seat, running a tired hand down his face. 

"How will we even find them?" Harper asked. "Pretty much every monster and demon alive want a piece of the Winchesters. They can't even find them."

Raven snorted. "They're not me." 

"Okay...say we do find them, and we tell them about the twelve angry clans...what, then? What can they offer us that we haven't thought of already? What exactly makes them the wild card?" Monty asked as nicely as he could. He never really doubted Raven, but with this situation growing more prominent, especially with these weeks passed as they suffered in silence, all trying to come up with a plan until Clarke and Bellamy called for a meeting today. "I think we should still try to figure this out for ourselves. If you guys just give me enough time..."

"Monty...for the last time, they don't see reason. They're monsters. They don't care about humans. To them we are either food or obstacles." Bellamy quickly shut him down. This appeared to be an argument that's been brewing for weeks. Monty, the Peacekeeper. It often got them out of a lot of trouble with other hunters, but he's been wanting to use it on the clans. "We go with Raven's plan. It's the best one we've had in a while, and it's a course of action I'm willing to take."

Raven brightened considerably. "Wait...seriously?"

Bellamy grunted and got to his feet. "I've heard several stories about the Winchesters. Everyone has. And while they're noted to be the very bane of this universe....you're right, they're probably the only ones capable helping us stop them. And worst case scenario and it doesn't work out...we can at least say we tried."

"This is such a bad idea," John mumbled, shaking his head. 

"Bellamy's right," Clarke agreed, also getting to her feet to put a hand on Raven's shoulder. "Sam and Dean Winchester have a history of...complete and utter destruction. That being said, they know what they're doing, and we're way in over our heads if we think we can take down the clans alone. We all heard Heda Lexa's warning. We killed the wrong monster...and now we get to pay the price for it. Or...we can actually do something about it. And anyway...ten heads are better than eight. And if the rumors are right, we can also have an angel stand with us."

"Whoopee," John sang sarcastically. 

"It's better than no plan at all. I've been getting tired of sitting around here doing nothing," Nathan said, sending Raven a small smile. "I'm up for it. Plus...I kind of wanna see if they live up to the hype."

"Dibs on the older one," Harper grinned, eyeing the mugshot of one of the Winchesters. This one was mimicking a smolder, whereas the other looked quite disappointed with his predicament. Monty looked rather disgruntled at that, but he managed to smile when Jasper eagerly elbowed him, giving an exciting smile at this new possibility.

"Alright...we have something to do. Raven, find the Winchesters. The rest of you...get ready." Clarke ordered.

There was a simultaneous clamber as everyone pushed their chairs out and got to their feet. Raven seemed rather satisfied with herself, shutting the projector off and cleaning off the table from the newspaper clippings as well as the distorted images of possible sightings of the Winchester brothers she got off of the FBI sites; it turns out they're wanted nearly everywhere in the country, whether they were aware or not. She made sure to grab the several copies of their mugshots and her travel coffee cup, pulling it to her lips as she quickly rushed out of the room. Bellamy, the gentleman he always was, kept the door open. Once everyone had filed out of the room successfully, he shut it and locked it behind him, knowing exactly who would be nosy enough to go traipsing through there.

Speaking of the devil, she was leaning against the banister that lead down toward the staircase, which everyone else was using to get to the bottom level, where everyone's rooms were fashioned. As for her, she was looking at Bellamy with such malcontent Bellamy could already feel the argument begin to creep up, and he definitely wasn't in the mood. 

"Hey," she greeted instead, using faux-kindness to reel her way in. 

"Hey...you hungry? I was thinking of going out and getting everyone burgers. You can tag along if..."

"Why are you letting Raven try to find the Winchester brothers?" Jumping right to the point. Alright, then. 

Bellamy sighed, shoving the key to the meeting room deep into his pocket. "I told you to stop listening at the door, O. Those meetings have absolutely nothing-"

"Don't give me the recycled crap, Bell. I already know about the twelve clans. Harper told me," she sneered. "Now why are you letting Raven find the Winchester brothers?"

"And how do you know the Winchester brothers?" Bellamy scoffed, walking past her and beginning to descend down the staircase. He could hear her hot on his tail.

"Every hunter knows about them."

"You're not a hunter."

" _Bellamy._ "

" _Octavia_ ," Bellamy retorted, stopping right in his tracks. She stumbled, nearly falling into him. "Don't make this harder than it already is."

"You're doing that yourself," Octavia said, "Bell...I'm ready. I'm more than ready. I'm twenty years old...you can't keep me from-"

"I can do whatever the hell I want," Bellamy hissed, whipping around so they were nose to nose. Despite being further down on the staircase, he was still able to meet her nose to nose. "You forced this on me, O. I didn't want you to come. I made that clear from the beginning. You were fine with just doing the research with Monty-"

"That was before you started taking him into the field. Now I'm by myself! And I'm way better than him, anyhow! I'm better than over half of you, but you keep treating me with kid gloves! I'm over it! This involves every hunter. The twelve clans are dangerous. And if you think letting Raven find the two biggest dumbasses the hunting industry has to offer, then I'm in."

"No," Bellamy replied easily, turning back around and taking the last four steps before walking down the long hallway of bedrooms that contained his. He had been graciously given the master bedroom for his leadership, something he cherished greatly. Mostly because his room was the only one with a lock for keeping pesty little sisters out. 

"No? _No?_ " Octavia repeated. "So what are you gonna do when you finally have to face off with them? Because finding the Winchester brothers is just delaying the inevitable. You know, eventually, you have to fight them. And where does that leave me? Locked up in this stupid house?" She suddenly kicked at the wall, which gave a threatening crack. Bellamy could see she didn't put a hole in it just yet, however. "Leave me waiting for all of you to come back? That's not right, Bell, and you know it." 

"You're right. I guess I'll just leave you with Mom," Bellamy said, just before he shut the door behind him and locked it before she could continue her tirade of insults. He heard her bang on the door three times before she yelled out a curse and stomped back down the hallway to the room she shared with Harper and Clarke. Bellamy sighed, leaning against the door and finally releasing the breath he was holding. 

This argument has been regurgitated for the past three years, since Octavia finally abandoned their mother in search of her big brother. And she had found him. Bellamy truly didn't want to take her in. This life was too dangerous; if she gets killed on his watch, Bellamy is sure he wouldn't be able to live with himself. That was why he stuck her on researching for hunts instead with Monty. Bellamy couldn't stop Monty from wanting to train with them for the field, but he could stop Octavia. And that was what she hated the most. 

Bellamy ran a hand down his face. Hopefully Raven would find the Winchester brothers quickly, so they could be done with the twelve clans for good, and Bellamy could actually get some sleep at night. 

* * *

Two weeks past before the Winchester brothers were brought up again. It was an early Monday morning; Harper and Monty decided to be generous by fixing breakfast for everyone, while also trying their best to keep Jasper out of the kitchen so he would stop snatching slips of bacon. Octavia had seemed to get over the argument she and Bellamy had. That, or she was giving him the silent treatment and he just failed to notice. Everyone waited patiently at the dining table, save for Harper and Monty since they were finishing things up, and Raven was always a late bird because she mostly stayed up all night with her nose in lore books. 

Bellamy had a newspaper peeled open in front of him along with his cup of coffee. Clarke sat beside him, trying to fix a crick out of her neck. At the very end of the table, Nathan was snoozing in his chair, his head leaning back as drool escaped his open mouth. Jasper was beside him, pushing the slips of bacon he managed to steal from the kitchen into Nathan's mouth while John watched, shaking his head slowly. 

"Alright, guys, come and get it!" Harper called from the kitchen. Jasper, at once, lunged from the table and made a run for it, leaving Nathan to cough and sputter, hurrying to take the strips of bacon from his mouth after waking from the ruckus. John rolled his eyes and slowly got up to make his plate followed by Octavia, leaving Clarke alone with Bellamy. 

"Want me to get your plate?" she offered. "You look pretty...distracted."

"Trying to find something out there for us, but it's been radio silent for two weeks," Bellamy explained, closing the newspaper with a huff and taking a drink from his mug.

"I think it's a good thing that we've had nothing to do," Clarke said, smiling. 

"Or the calm before the storm," Bellamy said as everyone came back from the kitchen, all clutching platters full of eggs, bacon, waffles that came out of the freezer, and croissants Monty had insisted on buying. As far as Bellamy knew, they were supposed to expire in a few days, which was probably why he was so eager to make them today. He was about to get to his feet with Clarke to go fix themselves up a plate when they heard a door from the hallway slam open and, suddenly, Raven was running toward the dining table clutching her laptop. 

Anyone could tell it was Raven's laptop just from the state of it. Despite how broken it seemed, she always managed to fix it back up, refusing to waste money and buy a new one, especially when she had such a deep connection to this one. The back of it was littered in stickers from her favorite television shows, movies, and book series. You could hardly see the red color underneath. 

"I did it." That was all she said. If Bellamy didn't know any better, he'd think Raven officially lost her mind. Her hair, which was technically in a ponytail, was completely frizzy and misshapen, protruding off to the side as though someone pulled it in a fight. She was wearing the same pajamas she had on four days ago, which consisted of a pop culture t-shirt from a show Bellamy didn't watch, and her night shorts.

She suddenly shoved the laptop into his face. Clarke sidled over to get a better look, her eyes narrowed to focus. The screen was black with neon green letters and numbers rapidly passing over the screen as though Raven had hacked into some kind of complicated system. At the center of the screen were coordinates. Bellamy quickly took out his cellphone and punched them into his GPS. 

"It's a bar down in...Kansas," he said, before looking back up at her. "How do you know they weren't just passing through there?"

"Because they visit this bar at least once every week. They have to have some kind of safe house there. I say we pack up right now and get into the van. We head for Kansas and we scout the bar until we see them," Raven said, a proud smile on her face. She did a little jig, before looking down and seeing the many platters of breakfast treats. "I'm starving." She snatched the scrambled eggs from Jasper's plate and took a few bites before she nodded eagerly to Bellamy and Clarke. "So? What do you think? I did good, right?" Jasper looked downright offended at her, a slice of bacon hanging from the corner of his mouth. 

"Raven...you did amazing. This is perfect," Clarke praised, grinning up at her. She looked around the table. "Now we know. After we finish with breakfast, everyone head back to your rooms and pack a bag. Is the van gassed up?"

"No, but I can take it into town and take care of that," John volunteered. 

"Thank you, Murphy. Raven, this is...great, again. Thank you." 

Raven saluted her and took her laptop back, setting it down on the counter on her way into the kitchen. 

"She's gonna eat everything in there because I haven't seen her eat since the last meeting," Monty said through a mouthful of croissant.

* * *

It took them about two hours to get everything ready. They showered, packed a bag, and stocked up on enough food for the trip. The trip by van would take, at least, nineteen hours. They were set up in Washington, so getting to Kansas would be a hassle. The driving would have to be divided up between Bellamy, Clarke, and Raven. John had already filled up the van, and he also got travel snacks for himself that he hid deep in his luggage so Nathan and Jasper couldn't take any. 

Bellamy was still in his room, gathering up the last of his necessities and trying his best to zip it up, not knowing how long this would take. 

"Bell?"

Bellamy looked over his shoulder. Octavia was leaning against the doorway, her arms crossed. She was dressed in her normal daily attire: a t-shirt, baggy sweatpants, and tennis shoes. At the very least, she managed to fix her hair up. She saw him struggling to zip up his luggage and huffed, walking in and shoving his contents deeper into the bag before successfully zipping it closed. She looked up at him. 

"I packed a bag, too."

"O, don't even start-"

"You can't stop me. I already talked about it with Clarke. She said I've been promoted."

"Promoted? Promoted to what?" Bellamy asked with a scoff. 

"Van duty," Octavia grinned, hands on her hips. "I'm officially the getaway driver if it all goes south."

Bellamy paused for a moment, before he had the confidence to let out a small snort. Octavia's grin vanished. "Wait a minute, wait a minute...so while we're taking down the twelve clans, you'll just be waiting in the van? I don't buy it. You never follow the instructions we give you. Why the sudden eagerness?" 

Octavia crossed her arms again. "I had to find some way to come with you guys. Plus...I can be the getaway driver just fine. And when you guys eventually need my help, and you will, I'll be there." 

"That's not gonna happen. We'll be just fine. If I have to handcuff you to the steering wheel, I'll do that," Bellamy said, smiling smugly as he passed her to go put his luggage in the trunk of the van. He heard Octavia curse after him. 

The van they had was quite hideous. It was a faded beige color, and none of the windows could open. The doors constantly got stuck, and if you accidentally put the air conditioner on too high, the entire car would shut down from exhaustion. But it was what they could afford on such a low budget. The house they stayed in wasn't even theirs, technically. They had found the two-story building when it was nothing but ruins, prepared to fall in. But after a lot of elbow grease, they managed to fix it up. They just haven't managed to fix old Bertha just yet. That's what Jasper and Monty called the van. 

Clarke was already sitting in the driver's seat, waiting for everyone to pile in. 

At the very back sat from left to right Jasper, Monty, and Nathan. In the middle section, there was John, Raven, Harper, and an empty seat for Octavia. The passenger seat was left open for him. Once he got to the trunk and opened it, he realized he'd have to participate unwillingly in a game of Tetris to keep everything from tumbling out. Thankfully, when Octavia arrived with her duffle bag, he figured out how to sort everything and slammed the door shut. 

"You'll see, big brother," she said before she jumped into the back to take her seat, "I'm a hunter through and through."

Bellamy didn't say anything. As she shut the door, he ran a tired hand down his face and moved around the van to get to his spot, opening the door wide and hopping in. 

"Let's hit the road," he grunts, strapping himself in.

"You got the coordinates, Clarke?" Raven asked. 

"Yes, I do," Clarke replied, hoisting her phone up on the phone jack strapped to the dashboard. She switched it on and, immediately, the robotic GPS voice began to spit out directions. They pulled out of the driveway and down the road, all of them hoping desperately that the Winchester brothers would be willing to help with their problem. Bellamy, however, was secretly hoping they'd have some kind of excuse to return home where he could keep Octavia at a better distance from hunting. 

He glanced sideways at Clarke, his face fixed into a dissatisfied frown. He would also have to talk to her on 'promoting' Octavia in the first place. 


	2. Who the hell are you?

" _You lit me on fire!_ " Sam barked. Dean tried his best to ignore him, but that's difficult with him right on his tail, whipping open the door that led into the bunker from the garage. A headache was growing, and Sam definitely wasn't helping. He was still very aggravated that Dean miscalculated how far he was when Dean lit the match to put that wendigo out of their lives for good. To be fair, Dean technically apologized. But Sam had insisted that giving him a beer and an old sandwich that Dean hastily prepared before they left for their hunt wasn't even close to an apology. Now he's been ranting to him for the past county and a half. Dean had figured once he got them to the bunker, Sam would give it up. That was another thing he miscalculated. 

"Sammy, you're still kicking, aren't you? Let it go," Dean said at last, dropping the duffel bag he carried inside on one of the tables before turning down the hallway toward the kitchen. He could hear his baby brother do the same, the blades and spray paint cants clanking together. It was the ominous sound of a hunter approaching. Dean and Sam often wore it well. Right now Dean would take a machete to the throat then having to endure another minute of Sam's unnecessary squabbling. Usually, he wasn't this sensitive. But Dean figured it was because he hadn't given a sincere enough apology. 

He grimaced as he entered the kitchen. One of them had forgotten to do last night's dishes. And by one of them, he really meant himself. The chore wheel Castiel had helpfully procured for them had gone to waste and just took up space on the front of the refrigerator, the same refrigerator Dean pulled open in search of some booze to soothe his nerves. What he came across instead were three containers full of salads and one bottle of Italian dressing. Dean had forgotten they needed a supply run. _Damn it._

"You could've at least given me a warning," Sam snapped as he entered the kitchen after him, completely unaware that alcohol wasn't available to cool him off. "Why're you looking at me like that? I'm right!" 

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean huffed. "We're outta beer." 

"What?"

"We're outta beer."

"That's not true. I literally bought two six-packs two days ago," Sam scoffed, completely forgetting about his initial anger as he quickly approached the fridge, swatting at his brother's hand and only seeing his salads and disgusting dressing. "Oh, damn. How much had we taken for the road?"

"Not too much. But we were pilfering the stash pretty hard the night you brought 'em home. Celebrating the Djinn biting the bullet," Dean pointed out, running a hand through his hair. "I really don't wanna go to the store and come back here just for some brewskis." 

Sam could only shrug. "Maybe we don't need it tonight. Just take a shower and head to bed. Cas said he's gonna give us an update on Crowley's situation, too, and you know he doesn't like to sleep in."

"Well, I do, and I definitely need to take some of the edge off before he goes off on one of his stories again. The last time he gave us an update, you fell asleep in your chair," Dean scoffed, pushing past him. "I'm gonna hit the bar instead. You wanna come?" 

"What, right now?" Sam asked, surprised. 

"Why not?"

"You're not tired?"

"I'm tired of you squawking in my ear," Dean called over his shoulder. He turned down the corridor that held their bedrooms, counting the steps before he found his door. He turned the brass knob and stepped inside, quickly shutting it before Sam could follow him inside. He switched on the light switch, painting his room in a light, orange glow. His room was the same way he left it: bed left unkempt and messy with an empty plate that had previously held twelve lemon pepper wings. His nightstand was littered with grocery mart receipts, stray coins, and his alarm clock which was showing the wrong time. He smiled, breathing in the horrible stench deeply. It was good to be home. 

He disappeared into the bathroom, stripping himself bare from the singed and awful smelling clothes from his brawl with the wendigo. He started the shower, making sure the temperature would be stifling hot before throwing fresh clothes on his bed to change into before he'd head to the bar, with or without Sammy. 

He took his time in the shower, washing all of the gunk left on him from the hunt off. He even used the floral scented shampoo he kept hidden from Sam. He hissed slightly when it got to the freshly made cuts. Thankfully, this hunt didn't require him to make stitches, but the cool burn still made him shiver in discomfort as the soap excreted from his washcloth. 

Once he finished, he switched off the water and stepped out. He clumsily dried himself off and went to change, grabbing only his wallet, pistol, and his cellphone, which still bore no new messages. Coincidentally, Sammy had stepped out of his own bedroom at the exact same time, looking just as fresh and new as Dean felt. 

"You decided to tag along?" Dean asked, stretching. 

"Figured it's better than sticking around here trying to sleep. Might have nightmares about spontaneously bursting into flames," Sam said sarcastically.

"Okay, seriously, man. I apologized. We hugged it out. Get over it!" Dean snapped, turning down the hallway to make his way to the garage. Sam rolled his eyes, but he followed him. Alcohol would hopefully end this fight for the both of them. That, or it would just make Sam forget completely why he was so angry in the first place. 

Dean hopped into Baby's driver seat once they returned to the garage. Sam automatically took the passenger side, strapping himself in. Childishly, he crossed his arms and turned away, clearly displaying he wasn't going to talk to Dean during the drive. Like he cared. Dean snorted obnoxiously and blasted the radio before pulling out into the night. Sam would get over it soon enough. That, or Dean would just have to kill him before the night ends. Then again, that got him out of Cas' long and boring tale on Crowley's plan to deal with the sudden spark of supernatural. 

A few weeks ago, there was a stir for both the hunters and the hunted. Dean and Sam didn't have a clue on what it was. For a moment, it almost seemed like all the monsters and beasts they hunted went into hiding. Then they suddenly reappeared with sudden vigor, sudden red, hot anger that they didn't have beforehand. Dean theorized it was some kind of mating season, but Sam had his doubts. They consulted the angel on the matter, and he decided to go to Crowley about it, figuring the demons had something to do with it. Instead, he had come to see Crowley felt the same energy shift, and he's already set his demons onto the case to try and figure out what has occurred. 

Dean didn't mind the sudden change in the monsters' behavior, truly. That just meant more to come into the open to be hunted. But it was strange. 

Very strange. 

* * *

The bar was packed tonight. There wasn't a spot for the Impala. Dean grumbled incoherently as he circled the bar around twice before he decided to settle near the brush in the back where the employees park. He had hoped they wouldn't notice. His Impala didn't really stand out between a red pick-up truck and a hideous beige van. 

Switching Baby off, Dean swung open the door and stepped out, breathing in the crisp, midnight air with a happy sigh. Sam unbuckled himself and followed, appearing to have his anger slowly subside now that they were here at the bar. He didn't want Dean wandering off with some chick and leaving him to stay stranded miles away from the bunker. He's done that once or twice when Sam pissed him off. The worst times are when they're out of town and Sam can't remember which way their motel is. 

They walked through the old-fashioned barn doors into the establishment, being welcomed into the low lighting and loud chatter of friends and couples. The many booths and tables were stock full of folk, some wearing checker-board button-ups, raggedy jeans, and stereotypical cowboy hats. Others dressed a little more casual with t-shirts and shorts. For once, Sam and Dean didn't stand too far out in their own daily attire. Dean nudged his brother and nodded toward the bar. There were two stools left, and they were, thankfully, right beside each other. 

They strutted up to the counter and took their seats, waving the bartender over. It was Lorraine tonight. Dean preferred April. Lorraine was a short girl with thick thighs and a nicely sized bosom. Her long highlighted hair was always pinned back with pencils, and her eyeglasses sat at the very end of her button nose as she took orders and moved around rapidly. She was still exceptionally pretty, but she was no April. 

"Hey, sweetheart," he greeted with a smile as she walked over to the two of them. She nodded to Dean, while batting her eyelashes prettily toward Sam. That was another reason Dean preferred April. "Can we take two beers...and maybe set us up with some peanuts, if ya can? Thank you." 

"No problem, Dean. Hiya, Sam. You guys were gone for a while now," she said, trying to make conversation as she turned and snatched two bottles, easily popping off the lids and sliding them toward the brothers. She leaned down, ensuring Sam had an excellent view of her shapely behind as she got a bowl of peanuts for them to share. When she turned around, she winked and slid it toward Sam. "Almost thought we lost you guys."

"Nah. Just a small detour on our road trip," Dean grinned. "Thanks, doll. You're a peach." 

"Yeah, uh...thanks, Lorraine," Sam said awkwardly, his ears looking particularly red. If he were truly interested, it would be his cheeks turning different colors. His ears meant he was growing quite uncomfortable. Dean frowned, now making it a point to show Lorraine he just wanted to enjoy the evening with his brother. He didn't need her making him feel any kind of weird vibes. He did just almost burst into flames for some reason. He needed to cool off. Thankfully, someone a few seats down was snapping their fingers at her, and she winked once more at Sam before walking away. "Why'd we have to come on her shift?"

"This is kind of a spontaneous evening, Sammy." Dean chuckled, taking a swig of his bottle. 

"You could say that," Sam mumbled, thumbing at his own drink. He took one of the peanuts and carefully peeled off the shell before popping the contents into his mouth. "She's usually not this eager."

"Probably trying to get a good tip," Dean shrugged. "That, and we were gone for a while to begin with."

"I guess," Sam said, finally taking a drink. "Kinda hoping Cas cancels on us tomorrow. If he had anything new on this situation, he'd have called us by now. He'd consider it to be urgent, right?" 

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. You know, Sammy, maybe it really is nothing. Maybe we're just being a little paranoid because we haven't endured a suicide trip as of late. Maybe we're wondering where all the action is. Or we're wondering which suckers are takin' our storyline from us. All I know is, we ganked a wendigo successfully, I didn't get dealt a barbecued brother, and I'm sitting here with you kicking back and enjoying myself. Try to relax!" 

Sam chuckled. "You know, I'm still not over the fire."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Next hunt, I'll let you almost set me on fire, so we're even. Just watch the hair."

They clinked their bottles together and took a long gulp, the satisfying taste running down their throats and steadily cooling their nerves like Dean had wanted. When he slammed his bottle back down, he got the feeling he was being watched. It was one of those hunter instincts, something that grows with the times. It couldn't be Sammy, though, because he was currently digging through their bowl, trying to find the perfect peanut. Dean turned to his other side, barely noticing who he was sitting beside. 

It was a slender woman with long brown hair that met her lower back. She had naturally tanned skin, wide brown eyes, and thick lips coated in dark red lipstick. She had on a regular t-shirt that cut off near her midriff, while her skinny jeans seemed perfectly acid washed; although, he could see her left leg was clasped in what looked to be a homemade brace. She was smiling at him, revealing her pearly whites. Above all, this chick was beyond words beautiful.

"Well, hey there," he greeted.

"Hey," she replied, laughter in her tone.

"Uh...don't think I've ever seen you in here before. You just passing through?" he asked, turning completely away from Sam. He could hear his brother scoff in annoyance, peeking over his brother's shoulder to see who he was gawking at. Dean didn't notice Sam's face fall in surprise as well at this girl's appearance. 

"Just visiting an old friend. Thought I'd stop for a couple of drinks before I see him," she said, still smiling. 

"Well, I'm glad you did. Name's Dean...Dean Winchester," he introduced, holding a hand out. 

She smiled, studying him for a moment before she took his hand and shook it. "I'm Raven."

"Pretty name." he complimented. He could hear Sam clear his throat obnoxiously. He made it a show to roll his eyes in front of Raven, gesturing towards his brother with a mocking grin. "This here's my baby brother, Sam. He's got the whole shtick going on for Disney princess. He was just leaving to play pool. Weren't you, Sammy?"

Sam looked affronted. "Dean, seriously?" 

Dean fought to keep his smile as he turned to Raven. "Would you excuse us for just one minute?"

"Oh, be my guest," she said, still smiling. He nodded gratefully, turning to face Sam. 

"Sammy, I don't think I can stress enough how important chicks who fly into town to visit bars are. And I don't mean to throw this out here so suddenly, but I did see her first." Dean hissed quietly, pulling his brother down so he could hear him better. At times Dean hardly noticed the height difference, but when he was forced into situations like this, it was hard to be nonchalant about it. When was Dean's next growth spurt, anyhow? 

"I thought we came out here to drink together and head back to the bunker so we can sleep the hunt off and get ready for Cas," Sam hissed back. 

"Do I have to reemphasize the fact that there's a chick here?"

" _Dean_."

" _Sam._ "

" _Hey, she slipped something in your drink!_ "

Sam and Dean both turned at the same time. Lorraine was pointing accusingly at Raven, who seemed to be hastily pushing something into her front pocket. Dean looked from her to his bottle, then back to her. Sam was frozen in his seat, staring at her in bewilderment as this all unfolded right before his eyes. 

"Um, you know what? I think..." Raven's voice had suddenly gotten shaky. Her previous demeanor of some kind of sexy mysterious chick was replaced with her looking extremely nervous and clammy as she inched herself off of the stool. "I think I should go visit that friend now...you just carry on with your brother. So sorry to interrupt." With that, she whipped around and raced toward the exit. 

Dean whipped around toward Sammy. "I've never been in this situation before. Do we-?"

"Yes, Dean!" Sam exclaimed, jumping to his feet. 

"Right, right, of course," Dean coughed, following him. They raced after the girl, now determined to know why she just tried to slip something into Dean's drink, whether it be for the classical reason that would end up with Dean in the bathtub missing his kidney, or if it were for the other reason right after Dean happened to reveal his full name to this complete stranger all because she was incredibly hot. 

She was fast, however. Once they raced outside, Dean finally found her slinking around the bar toward the back.

"Oh, she better not touch Baby!" Dean shouted, shooting past Sam to catch up to her. 

"Wait up!" Sam called, fighting to catch up to him. 

"HEY! STOP!" Dean called after her. To him, it appeared she was heading straight for the Impala. Instead, she was making a beeline for the disgustingly hideous van beside the Impala, prying at the back door and cursing loudly when it wouldn't give. Dean and Sam finally caught up to her, both panting for air. Dean wasted no time in reaching for his pistol, whipping it out and pointing it straight toward her. "Alright, alright, alright! Enough! Turn around with your hands in the air! NOW!" 

She jerked at the door one more time before bowing her head. Heaving a great sigh, she slowly turned on the spot with her hands raised above her head. 

"Look, man, I-"

"Shut it! Who the hell are you really? And what did you try to slip into my drink?" Dean demanded. "Are you an organ trafficker?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "What? No! And my name is really Raven. Raven Reyes. I don't want any trouble with you guys, really. I'm...I'm a hunter. Like you two. Monsters and demons...the works. I know about it all; I've researched and hunted it all, save for...djinn. That is on my bucket list, though. Look...I just needed enough time to get you and Sam knocked out before we-"

"We?" Sam repeated questioningly. He had his own gun out, pointed right at her. "Who the hell is we?"

" _We're we_." 

Dean turned around first, keeping his gun raised. He couldn't help but stumble in surprise. Eight of them. There were eight people standing shoulder to shoulder, three of them with guns held up, pointing straight for Sam and Dean. 

"What...what the hell..."

"Sam and Dean Winchester?" one of them asked. She was an average height female with shoulder length blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, with a shapely figure hidden underneath a black tank-top, open blue flannel, black jeans, and black combat boots. She was one of the three holding firearms up. 

"Yeah..." Dean replied slowly. 

"I'm Clarke Griffin. We're...We call ourselves Skaikru. We need your help."


End file.
